


I'll take mine toasted

by JaqofSpades



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Drabble Meme, F/M, I drabble long okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22032403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: Is it a pull up or a push up she wonders idly, but SILENCE brain. Her eyes are too busy dealing with the unexpected magnificence of shirtless, sweaty Dolls, working out.
Relationships: Xavier Dolls/Wynonna Earp
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	I'll take mine toasted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nourgelitnius (Ladysarah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladysarah/gifts).



> In a bid to actually write something in 2019, I give you this little story, unremarkable except for the fact that I promised it to nourgelitnius aeons ago. From the 100-prompt drabble meme, for 1.“That’s starting to get annoying”.

Wynonna nearly spills the coffee when she sees him.

She’s caught by his lips first, admiring the way his tongue flicks up to his top lip as he concentrates, lowering himself slowly before pulling back up again … is it a pull up or a push up she wonders idly, but SILENCE brain. Her eyes are too busy dealing with this unexpected magnificence.

Shirtless, sweaty Dolls, working out.

Wynonna realises she must have made a sound when his eyes dart to hers, and quick, Earp. Shut that shit down. Think Black Badge. Stoic.

(Not muscles, glistening. Bulging. All that smooth, smooth skin, that sheen of sweat just begging to be tasted …)

Nope. Casual. Nothing to see here. Just lean into the doorway and let it hold you up, Wynonna. And reclaim that one braincell he hasn’t fucking incinerated. Say something. Anything!

“I brought you a shirt, so put your coffee back on,” she offers, and yeah. Take that.

It’s not until his mouth curls into a self-satisfied smile that her brain catches up. She’s already halfway across the room, and retreat is not an option. Time to make some mileage out of this embarrassing flush.

“Wow, Dolls. You got me all hot and bothered,” she purrs. “And just when I’m gunning for ‘professional, but friendly’. See?” she waved the coffee under his nose. “But now I have to watch you be all sweaty and tempting.” Wynonna contemplates a pout but decides that’d cross the boundary into too much. And she has way better weapons, anyway.

“This working out in the office might be okay where you’re from, but here in Purgatory … well. Revenants could come busting in. Ghosts. Witches.” She pauses, lets her eyes run all over him, then sets her precious burden down the table before crowding in. “Horny demon hunters.”

His reps had slowed with her entry, then stuttered to a stop as she started her seduction. Now he is simply hanging from the bar, watching her warily. An ember of gold is smouldering at the centre of black eyes, and Wynonna really, really wants to make it flare into flame.

But that would be unprofessional, she sighs, and restrains herself to a single finger tracing a path south from his sternum. Slowly. With the odd excursion along sweat-gilded contours. Let no one say Wynonna Earp couldn’t be a team player.

She’s playing so good the boss practically has steam coming out of his ears.

But he’s Dolls, Deputy Marshal, so she isn’t even surprised when he takes a deep breath, returns to his full height and grits out a complaint.

“That’s starting to get annoying,” he croaks, and sure, Dolls, sure. But she backs off, even offers him a shrug of apology, because she knows he needs to calm down a little, just breathe. Or, you know. Things will get a little toasty.

Not that she’s scared of that. Just – careful. Once they iron a few things out – what the hell he is, what she’s doing with Doc, who the hell are Black Badge anyway – it’ll all be cake. Toasty cake. On a big old fire.

Bullshit metaphor but whatever. Wynonna grabs her coffee and takes a long swig, trying to drown as many impure thoughts as she can. Woman’s gotta work here, after all.

Right up ‘til the day it’s time to burn it all down.


End file.
